


Please.doc

by Hyliari



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Begging, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Snowballing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 02:09:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6101299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyliari/pseuds/Hyliari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian, on his knees, arms bound behind his back, with Bull's cock in his mouth. </p>
<p>That's it. That's literally it. I wanted a blowjob fic and so this is a blowjob fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please.doc

"Please," Dorian whispers, lips brushing the head of Iron Bull's cock. "Please," he repeats, a pearl of precome smearing along his upper lip as he drags his mouth to the side. "Please, Iron Bull, let me suck your cock," he breathes, and his tongue darts out to lick his lip clean, underside glancing against the Bull.

"That what you want?" Bull asks, reaches down to hold his cock at the base and smear the head across Dorian's lips again. Dorian groans and his cock throbs, untouched, heavy between his thighs.

"Yes, please," he whispers, barely audible over the crackle of the fire behind him. His knees shift wider on the rug and his hips jerk in useless circles, cock bouncing lightly. "Please, Bull, I want it."

"Want _what_ ," Bull asks, smirking at the pitiful whine Dorian lets out. He taps his cock against Dorian's mouth once, twice, and gives it a stroke, pushing out more precome for Dorian's waiting tongue.

"Your cock," Dorian whispers, "in my mouth. Please."

"I dunno, Dorian. You're being kind of quiet there. You sure you want it?" Dorian whines again and his arms strain in their bindings, pinned to his back.

"Yes, yes, please, Bull. I'm sure. Please, I'm sure I want to suck your cock." Dorian turns his head and rubs his cheek against the length of it. It's not his mouth, so Bull lets him get away with it.

"I think you ought to speak up a little before you earn this," the Bull says, and squeezes out another string of precome to smear from Dorian's cheek back to his mouth. "Let me really hear you, so I'm know just how bad you need it."

"Bull, please," Dorian whispers, swallows, and tries again. "Please," he says, a bit louder, and gets the reward of the Bull's cock tapping at his lower lip. "Please," he says again, louder still, and the Bull places a hand on the back of his head. "Please, Bull, I want your cock, _please!_ " Dorian nearly shouts, and the Bull drags him forward and onto it.

Dorian groans, satisfied to his core, and immediately sets to work. The Bull's hand on his head is more permission than pressure, so Dorian sets his own pace. He slides his mouth down, tongues all around the Bull's cock, really slicking it, and sucks hard on the upstroke. Bull groans above him, gasps when he takes a moment to focus on the head, sucking harder and pushing at it with his tongue. Just under the head, the slit, all around the top, and he slides forward to take the Bull's cock in again, a bit farther each time.

Above him, the Bull's praise is constant. How good he is. How nice his mouth feels. How-- _Oh, oh! Do that again, yeah, with your tongue just there, yeah, good boy_. And Dorian loses himself in it, in the rhythm, in the stretch of his mouth around the girth of the Bull's cock, fat and heavy against his tongue, in the way it pushes against the back of his throat.

He breathes deep, opens to let it in, and holds it there a moment, swallowing convulsively, then controlled. Dorian pulls off for another breath, and this time swallows in a rhythm that has the Bull leaning forward and stroking at his face with both hands, praising him, keeping his hands off the back of Dorian's head so as not to pressure him.

Spit drips down his chin, his neck, everything slick, and Dorian pulls back to groan. He feels filthy, he feels amazing, he feels _fucking hard_. With his hands bound, there's no relief to be had, and it _hurts_.

Dorian pulls his mouth from the Bull's cock with a whine, not without difficulty, and looks up at him pitifully, wiggling his hips. "Please," Dorian starts, and has to stop to cough and swallow. He imagines he must be quite the sight, mouth swollen and slick like everything below it, hair mussed from the Bull's hands. "Please, Bull," he tries again. "Please, I want to come."

"Aww," the Bull coos, "I bet you do. You've been doing such a good job, Dorian. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?" Bull cards his fingers through Dorian's hair, tilting his face up.

"My hands--" Dorian starts, but Bull shushes him.

"No, no, your hands will stay like that," Bull says, "and you're going to keep sucking my cock. You asked for it so nicely, Dorian. You were so good." Bull's thumb wipes at the precome still on Dorian's cheek.

"Then how?" Dorian breathes, leaning into the touch.

"Like this," Bull says, and shifts his leg so that it presses against Dorian's cock

Dorian shouts and pitches forward, hips jumping of their own accord at the first touch he's received in--how long has it even been? Minutes? Hours? _Days?_ It never seems to matter when he and the Bull play these type of games. Nothing to worry about besides the Bull and his instructions, everything else secondary to them together in their room.

The Bull places a hand against Dorian's shoulder and pushes him back up, holding him steady. "You good?"

"I'm—I'm fine," Dorian gasps, ruts against Bull a final time before getting himself under control. "I'm alright, keep going," he says, steadier.

The Bull replaces his hand back on Dorian's head, and pulls him forward again. "You can come whenever you're ready," he says, and Dorian moans around the Bull's cock, rolls his hips against the Bull's leg. It's not the most comfortable position, doesn't provide the most relief, but it's better than nothing and Dorian can feel the Bull getting closer, too.  His cock leaks almost constantly over Dorian's tongue, bitter and hot, and Dorian stills his mouth a moment just to feel it. Just to feel the pulse of the veins against his tongue, the drip of precome and saliva mixed together down his chin, the heat of the Bull, almost overwhelming with the fire roaring in the hearth at his back.

Dorian laves his tongue over the head, gives a good, firm suck, and suddenly the Bull's hips jerk forward, the first movement he's made rather than letting Dorian do what he wants. Dorian pulls back a little and sucks again, letting Bull slide forward in his mouth and set the pace.

Bull isn't fucking his mouth, not yet, but he's getting closer and closer to it. His hips roll less and less steady, his hands grab at Dorian's hair, and his praise gets rougher and rougher, peppered with swearing and groans, _Dorian, Dorian, fuck your—ah! Mouth, shit! Dorian yea-yeah! Fuck! Just like that, just like that, oh, oh! So--ah fuck! So good for—nngh! Good for me, Dorian! Fuck!—_ instead of smooth and even.

Dorian lets his eyes slide closed and holds on for the ride, hips jerking frantically against the Bull's leg, cock sliding through his own precome, easing the way, and he groans as he feels his balls draw tight. He's close, he's so close, and he's nearly overwhelmed by it all. Bulls cock in his mouth, Bull's hands on his head, Bull's ropes binding his hands so he can't reach down and bring himself off. In this moment, he is reliant on the Bull, completely, trusts him not to push his cock in too far, trusts him to let Dorian rub off against his leg, trusts him to untie Dorian when they're done, and his own trust astounds him.

Finally, finally, it's too much, his hips give one last jerk before they still, pressing his cock tight to the Bull's leg as it jumps and spills, making a mess of Dorian's stomach, the Bull's leg, the carpet below. Dorian groans, long and low, and through it all the Bull never stops moving.

Dorian comes down with Bull's cock still sliding in his mouth, still gently, but unrefined. There's no rhythm to it, and just as he starts to pull back to really work at the Bull's dick, the Bull shouts, and comes. Dorian’s mouth fills with it, and then some, but the Bull's hand on his throat stops him swallowing. "Don't," he hears, through the white noise that follows an orgasm. "Don't swallow."

Dorian closes his eyes and waits, feels the Bull stroke himself through it, just the head of his cock in Dorian's mouth for him to lick at. His tongue coats the Bull's cock with his own come, licks it off again, holds it in his mouth for the Bull's next order.

"Damn," Bull breathes, and pulls Dorian up to sit in his lap, legs pushed off to one side, the Bull's strong hand on his back holding him in place. "Give me a kiss," Bull says with a smile, and fits his mouth to Dorian's.

Dorian feels his face heat, and scrunches his eyes tighter closed in embarrassment, but opens his mouth for the Bull. They kiss with the Bull's come between them, slicking their lips and sliding between their tongues, most of it slipping down Dorian's chin like everything before. The Bull pulls away with a sucking noise and a smirk, and Dorian opens his eyes back up.

"Damn," Bull repeats, and he's, _oh Maker_ , his lips are wet with his own come.

"Agreed," Dorian rasps, and sighs as Bull reaches both arms around him to untie the ropes. Dorian presses his face to the Bull's shoulder without any care for the mess and then, because, really, it was Bull who got him into this state in the first place, shakes his head back and forth and wipes as much of it on Bull as he can.

"Gross. Thanks for that," the Bull laughs.

"Were you not sucking that out of my mouth just minutes ago?" Dorian shoots back, but laughs as well and rests his head on a relatively clean patch of chest. There is quite a lot to choose from.

"Yeah, but it's not as hot when it's not in the heat of the moment." Bull brings Dorian's arms back around to his front, slowly, and rubs the indentations from the rope in gentle little circles.  "Like, yeah, sure, come all over me and rub it into my skin, whatever—but damn, wash it off after. That shit itches like hell the next morning."

Dorian's cock gives a half-hearted twitch where it lays against his thigh, and he goes about sucking a bruising kiss onto the Bull's skin, just under his collarbone.

"Oh, you like that?" Bull smirks "Maybe we should do that next time. Have you ride me, or sit on my face. Come all over me—ooh, maybe you could lick it off! Then we wouldn't have to clean up as much!"

"That sounds. Oh my—Well." Dorian stammers for a moment, then grimaces, a dry bit of _something_ cracking and flaking off from his face. "That sounds like something for another time. Go get us something to clean up with, would you?" The Bull chuckles and heaves himself out of bed, and Dorian falls into the warm space left behind. He dozes, satisfied, until a wet cloth hits him square in the face. A _cold_ wet cloth. He warms his hands to heat it before scrubbing at his skin.

"Perhaps licking it up would be a better idea," he grimaces. "This whole cleaning up thing is rather..."

"Disgusting?" Bull suggests.

"Difficult," Dorian decides. "I can't tell anymore what's water and what's—I think I'm just spreading it around."

"Here," the Bull holds out his hand, takes the cloth from Dorian. "oh, EW," he says dropping it to the ground. "How much _was_ there to clean?"

"Before or after you filled my mouth with so much come it dripped out the sides?" Dorian asks, going for sexy but losing it on a yawn.

"Shit, I came that much?" The Bull kicks the cloth away to a pile of similarly filthy laundry and comes back with a fresh one. "Maybe I should ask you not to swallow more often. See if I can set a new record." He wipes gently at Dorian's chin, cleaning away the last of the mess and sliding into bed.

"Another time," Dorian says, yawning again and settling across Bull's chest.

"Another time," Bull agrees. "But not next time. Next time you have to come all over me and lick it off."

" _Vishante kaffas_."

"I mean, I usually plan on _coming_ on your tongue, but if that's really what you want, big guy," the Bull laughs.

"Don't you _dare_ ," Dorian shoves him lightly and refuses to rise to any more of the Bull's jabs until they're both asleep.

**Author's Note:**

>  _Vishante kaffas:_ "You shit on my tongue."


End file.
